


Dragons Dream of Blood and Bone

by axelsrose



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: (Hinted at anyway), Amputation, Amputee Hanzo, Amputee Lúcio, Anxiety Disorder, But only in like one scene, Emetophobia, Genji's death is in this so character death, Hana and Lucio appear at one point, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Major blood and gore warnings, McHanzo - Freeform, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), PTSD, Smoking, There be dragons, Theres a lot of death later on, Young Hanzo, like come on, vomit warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-22
Updated: 2016-11-22
Packaged: 2018-09-01 12:20:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8624254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/axelsrose/pseuds/axelsrose
Summary: Even dragons cannot escape their guilt. Hanzo suffers from recurring nightmares regarding Genji and other past traumas but Jesse's always there to be the one to help pick him up after. (With a little help from the younger OW members)PLEASE read the warnings, I don't skim the details.





	1. Blood

_Paper screens segregate wooden halls, swathed in only moonlight from open shuttered windows. Most halls and rooms are quiet, dark. All apart from one; Candles and lanterns bathe the elders and the oldest Shimada son in gentle light. Deceptive comfort for the topic at hand._ _  
_ _Their voices are low, as if talking too loud would wake the entire castle to their meeting._

_“Hanzo, you must take action. He is becoming a threat to the Family.”_

_“He is negligent in his duties, careless in his actions and routinely disobeys orders. He can only bring dishonor.”_

_“It is for the good of The Family.”_

_Hanzo finally speaks up, younger, still hopeful deep down. Hopeful that it wouldn’t come to what they were suggesting. How naive. “He is my brother, I am sure it will not need to come to this.”_

_An elder lets out a bark of cold laughter. A wolf’s laugh. Unfeeling, fangs bared, dangerous. “He is a_ failure _.”_

 

Memories bleed together in one seamless nightmare.

 

_Cherry blossoms dance through a gentle breeze in the early dusk light. Koinobori flags flutter between the swooping roofs of the traditional and the towering steel of the mismatched city. Cheer and laughter fill the still crowded streets as children snack on kashiwa-mochi, parents in tow. The sound carries on the breeze up to the castle sitting perched high on its hilltop._

_It makes Hanzo feel sick. It’s too pleasant for the gruesome task he’s had his hand forced to commit._

_“Genji please, do not make me do this.” He pleads, hoping for the ancestors to change the fates. They offer no help. Genji holds his ground, defiant to the end._

_Dying light filters into the building through large open windows, highlighting his face. He’s so young still, it’s all almost too cruel._

_“You know_ you _don’t have to do this either, Hanzo. They aren’t_ making _you do anything.”_

 _The words sting. Hanzo steps forwards, reaching out his free hand, the hand clutching his katana tightening. His hand aches, echoing the ache in his chest. “_ Please _, just fall into line. We could rule the family together-”_

_“-That isn’t my destiny. You know that.”_

 

 _The orders from the elders thunder inside his skull. It makes his head hurt, his chest aches, his stomach churns. He has no choice. If he doesn’t follow orders, then he himself will die too. It’s all for the survival of the Family. It’s all for his_ own _survival._

_He unsheathes his katana, attempts to shed off the painful ache of heartbreak. Shimada Genji is now just another enemy threatening the Family. His face falls expressionless, a mask. They are all just a family of assassins after all, killing becomes second nature._

 

_Hanzo is the first to move, and despite attempting to rid his feelings from the situation, the blade feels heavy in his hand. The blade which usually felt so light to him, feels like a lead club. Clumsy and heavy. Although any killer could tell you even that was deadly in the right hands. Genji is quick to draw and counter, just as always. Where Hanzo had power, Genji had speed. A perfect mirror of each other, two sides of the same golden coin._

 

_The fight lasts no longer than twenty minutes. The sun is low in the sky now, giving everything a dying light. Hanzo blinks blood from his eyes, Genji is breathing hard, clutching his bloody side. Genji dashes, slicing his brother across the side. Hanzo grits his teeth through the sting, spins and catches him across the back of the leg, dropping him to his knees. He moves away and calls his dragons, Genji desperately tries to twist and call his own to counter._

_It’s only now that the younger brother is crippled that Hanzo has the upper hand, is just that fraction faster. Ethereal teeth maim flesh and break bones._

_The only thing louder than the roar of the dragons is Genji’s blood chilling scream. Hanzo’s blade follows through, slicing through armour, flesh, organ and bone._

 

_Hanzo plants his feet, supporting his brother on his sword as the dragons leave, the air prickling with static. Genji’s grip on his sword slips, clattering to the ground. He’s only standing by the blade piercing just under his heart. Genji’s eyes lock onto Hanzo’s and behind them Hanzo can see pain, not just physical, but deep rooted pain that stemmed from being betrayed by the one person he thought he could count on. Hanzo’s mask shatters, no longer able to remove himself from this._

_As Genji’s legs crumble, Hanzo sinks with him, unable to keep himself standing, still connected by the blood stained steel._

 

_The late evening breeze picks up again, Hanzo’s black stained blue and Genji’s sunset stained orange scarves flutter like pennants in the wind. Hanzo’s slips from his hair, fluttering away on the current, hair cascading into his face and sticking to his bloodied skin._

 

 _“...Genji-” His voice is quiet and he finds himself unable to look away. Blood is smeared across his face and Hanzo can't see where one deep cut starts and another ends. Genji shakes his head a fraction, a clean streak cutting through the crimson as he does. Hanzo’s stomach drops, his brother is_ crying _._

_“No… Hanzo… You-” There's a rattling breath that sends his blood cold. Blood trickles from Genji’s lips as he gasps, unable to catch his breath. The blood joins the bead forming on his jaw, falling and hitting the mat as he shudders._

_Plip._

_“We could have…”_

_Plip._

_“No, we couldn’t… You’re the golden boy...” Genji gives him a lopsided grimace of a smile before coughing. Hanzo feels the blade shudder in his hands. His grip weakens, blood makes hair stick to his face._

_Plip._

_“I thought-”_

 

_The sound of Japanese and English shouting cuts him off before he can finish, followed by gunfire. He looks towards the noise, feels the blade shudder in his hand. His stomach lurches._

 

_Genji sinks forwards as he looks back to his brother, turning to cherry blossoms that dance in the breeze. Hanzo’s grip finally gives, his battle damaged katana clattering to the mat. His gaze drifts to his hands. His hands are stained with blood. He can still hear the sound of blood dripping._

_Plip. Plip. Plip._

 

 _“I thought we could rule together…” His shoulders shake as he wraps his arms around himself. His vision swims, tinged with red from the blood in his eyes._ _  
_ _Plip. Plip._

_He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to block out the sound. “How foolish could I have been… Little brother, forgive me…”_

 

_There’s a sound of crashing waves, a roar of dragons; He opens his eyes._

_Hanamura is gone, replaced by an ocean of blood that expands past the horizon. Panic floods through him as he’s pulled under by an invisible force. The sea of crimson swallows him whole as he struggles to scream and thrashes trying to stay afloat. The shadows of people with flaming red eyes stare down at him as he disappears below the surface._

 

~*~*~*~

 

Hanzo wakes with a start, inhaling sharply, his heart hammering in his chest, hair sticking to his face with a layer of sweat. His stomach twists, threatening to evacuate its contents. He lays still, staring ahead at the digital clock opposite that announced it was _4:12 AM_ in bright garish red numbers. He swallows back the bile in his throat, taking a shaky breath and runs his fingers over the familiar cool metal arm of Jesse McCree that was wrapped over his middle. Jesse barely stirs, snoring against the back of his neck.

 

His gaze drifts down at his hand, the red light floods his vision, making his hand glisten as if it’s bathed in blood. The dream floods back, blood dripping, hands stained with red, the crimson sea, a thousand burning eyes.

 

_Plip._

 

He jerks away from the warmth of Jesse, nearly rolling off their shared futon as he does so. His stomach lurches violently and it takes all his strength to stumble into the tiny en-suite bathroom to throw up, collapsing to his knees in front of the toilet bowl.

Jesse wakes with a start at the sudden movement on the futon and he blinks blearily into the dark at the sound of Hanzo retching. He scrubs at his eyes, trying to make out the shape of his lover hunched over the toilet. “Pumpkin?” It takes his brain a moment to register and as soon as he does, he dives to flick on a light, scrambling to join him in the bathroom “Hanzo? Darling? What’s wrong?”

 

Hanzo braces himself on the edge of the toilet, body shaking, knuckles white as he grips the porcelain. He heaves again, squeezing his eyes shut. He can still see it on the inside of his eyelids, their scarves in the wind, his brother’s face, the sea, the thousand eyes judging him for his sins. _Brother killer, betrayer._ “N-nothing…” He croaks, throat sore from the bile. His first reaction is to lie, always to lie. He was used to being alone, used to never accepting help from anyone. Even if that person was the man he lay down with at night.

Jesse heaves a small sigh, shaking his head. He understands by now; this happened often enough that the words didn’t sting anymore. “That nightmare again?” He asks, kneeling beside him and brushing hair gently from his face. Hanzo leans into the touch, sweat beading on his forehead. He was shaking, his heart still hammering in his ears. “...Yes.” He finally breaths, daring to open his eyes and look at his hands.

No blood. Blessedly clean. There was no red sea, no stained skin. There was no one else in the room but himself and Jesse.

The tension that had wound up inside him like a coil snaps finally and he slumps sideways into the gunslinger who happily wraps his arms around him, holding him tightly against his chest. He hated seeing him like this. “Let’s get you a drink and some fresh air. It’s mighty stuffy in here.” Jesse mumbles into his hair. Hanzo nods slightly, focused on trying to regulate his breathing, his vision swimming.

~*~

The early autumn morning air in Gibraltar still carries the warmth of the summer with it on a gentle breeze. The sky mottled with moonlit clouds, blocking out the blanket of stars above. Jesse loops his arm around Hanzo’s shoulders, bundled up in a sweater that had seen better days with the Blackwatch emblem on the threadbare sleeve, black joggers hanging loose from his hips and a pair of slippers with horses on that Hana had insisted on giving him for his birthday. Hanzo with Jesse’s serape around his shoulders to shield him from any cliff side chill, a stolen shirt from Jesse and a pair of standard issue joggers. Hanzo stares at the sky letting Jesse guide him, trying to map out the constellations he recognised as they walked and clutching the hot chai tea to his chest.

They settle at the small box garden behind Torbjorn’s workshop, on a bench overlooking the sea. Jesse took no time to pull out a cigarillo, lighting it with some effort. “...How y’feelin’ cupcake?” He asks after a short puff, leaning back against the sheet metal wall behind them. Hanzo stares straight ahead for a long moment before taking a sip of the tea. It was surprisingly well brewed, especially since it had been Jesse who brewed it. “...A little better.”

“Maybe y’should talk to Angela about these nightmares? She might be able to help.” Hanzo gives a sharp head shake, the world spinning for a moment. Gods, he was exhausted. “No, I can deal with this…”

Jesse gives him a incredulous look, puckering his lips around the cigar. “Sugar, you’ve been having the same nightmare for years, and it’s getting more regular. Maybe just ask her-” Hanzo cuts him off with a sharp glare that Jesse can see even in the moonlight.

He heaves a sigh and offers him the cigar instead of arguing the case. Hanzo takes it and shifts to lean into him, giving the cigarillo a long drag before blowing it out in long thick tendrils. He sighs, passing it back and letting the effect wash over him. “...Fine, if you think it would be… helpful. Then I will talk to her.” Jesse gives him a soft smile, tapping ash off into the grass beside them. “I just want to see you sleep easy, sugar. I’m gettin’ worried ‘bout you.”

Hanzo shakes his head, sipping his tea. “I am fine, Jesse.”

“Hanzo, I love you, but stop lyin’ to me.” Hanzo falls silent, eyes drifting down to the tea. He watches the steam rise into the air and drift away with the breeze. “I can’t say that you’ll ever… stop having those dreams. I know I won’t. I just…” Jesse chews the end of the cigarillo, “You’re scaring me. That’s the third time in two months I’ve woken to find you throwin’ up last night’s lunch. I can’t help but _worry_.”

“I am sorry.” Hanzo shifts so he can pull Jesse’s free hand around his middle, lacing their fingers as he rests the mug on his knee. “I don’t know why this has suddenly started happening again… It isn’t close to the date, and it has been eleven years since it happened,” He muses glumly, “Perhaps the gods wish to punish me-”

“-Ah bullshit.” Hanzo blinks, tilting his head back to look up at him, Jesse stares out over the ocean without looking away. “That's bullshit and you know it.”

“Jesse...” Silence falls between them, and Hanzo looks back out over the ocean.

 

The rolling clouds clear, blown away by the wind. The moon shines in its full glory, unhindered by the obstruction, making the sea shimmer as the waves come in. Bats swoop and dive for insects as black streaks across the blanket of stars. Hanzo sighs heavily, rubbing his thumb over Jesse’s hand. Jesse gives his hand a squeeze, passing the cigar to him so Hanzo can take a drag.

“It’s nice tonight.” He muses, “Little windy, but nice.” Hanzo gives a soft hum in agreement, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the cowboy’s shoulder, letting the taste of tobacco rest heavy on his tongue. Jesse presses a kiss into his hair, inhaling the smell of jasmine.

“...Y’know, I love you.”

“I love you too, Jesse.”


	2. Bone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even dragons cannot escape their guilt.
> 
> PLEASE read the warnings, I don't skim the details.

_ A twig snaps under foot, the air is heavy with the heat of the midday sun. The air sucks any moisture from Hanzo’s mouth. He shoulders Stormbow, hands fumbling with the canteen from his obi, shaking the last feeble drops of water onto his tongue. He has been on the move for weeks, sticking to the less trodden path, keeping his guard up, alert to all sounds.  _

 

_ The Family are hunting him down. He has no time to rest.  _

 

_ He’s effortlessly dispatched the last handful of assassins sent to kill him. But as time wore on, they had become more cunning, more tricky. Hanzo was struggling to keep up, and the last assassin had very nearly caught him off guard.  _

 

_ He makes his way through the bracken and trees, headed down towards a town that he’s spotted from the hilltop. He needs supplies, water, and decent rest. He’s barely slept apart from the occasional cat nap and it was slowly taking its toll on him.  _

_ His foot slips on rock, losing his footing on the steep slope. He slips, the world turns and before he realises what’s happened, he’s at the foot of the hill, grass and twigs sticking to him. He groans in a crumpled heap. His body aches, joints and limbs screaming in pain. His head hurts and he’s sure he hit it on the way down.  _

 

_ It takes him a few agonizing moments to get his bearings again and untangle himself from his supplies and the foliage. He kneels in the dirt and checks himself over. Other than a few bruises, his head hurting and his meager supplies now scattered across the small clearing, he’s somehow mostly unscathed. He pulls himself to his feet unsteadily, dusting himself down. It’s then when he hears a twig snap up the hill.  _

 

_ “So, if it isn’t the great Shimada Hanzo. Wallowing in the mud like a common peasant.”  _

 

_ Hanzo spins, snatching up Stormbow from where it had fallen. At the crest of the hill stands a man, broad in the shoulder, eyes hidden by the shadow of the canopy, clad in the distinct armour of the clan he has left behind. Not just any assassin, one of their own. He opens his mouth to speak, but the dryness in his mouth steals the words from his tongue. Instead he simply glares, snatching up a scattered arrow without taking his eyes off the man as he slowly makes his way down the hill.  _

 

_ “It’s almost pitiful this is where you’ll die,” He drawls, the heavy tetsubo rested over one shoulder. Over confident and cocky, smirking down at him like he was some common rat. “If your father could see you now-” _

_ “-You have no right to speak of him-” Hanzo spits, anger rising.  _

_ “-he would disown you on the spot himself.” He backs up as the assassin gets to even ground. A good portion of his arrows are scattered in the dirt out of reach. A quick tally confirms he has only the one nocked in his bowstring and two left in his quiver. Part of him wishes he still had his sword, not that a sword would hold up well to a weapon like that.  _ Most  _ things didn’t hold up to a weapon like that.  _

_ ‘That’s probably why they sent him.’ He muses to himself. ‘No escape from this.’  _

 

_ “What is your name.” Hanzo demands, trying to keep his voice steady and strong, despite the exhaustion setting into his weary limbs.  _

_ The assassin gives a low sweeping bow with a mocking smile. “Of course! How foolish of me. My name is Tomo Hiroto of the Shimada Clan. Although I am sure you already know that.” The pit of his stomach falls out and his blood runs cold. Hanzo recognizes that name. Realisation dawns on him. He knew that name because he was one of the most brutal assassins in their clan.  _

 

_ There’s barely a pause before he straightens and lunges forwards, tetsubo brandished. A weapon that heavy should have been wielded with both hands but Hiroto was single handedly wielding it, a show of pure strength that could be seen in every movement as it rippled through muscles. Hanzo back peddles, firing off his shot. Hitoro easily swats it away like a baseball. The arrow bounces back, narrowly missing him. He feels the fletching speed past his ear.  _

 

_ In less time than it takes him to draw another arrow, Hiroto is ontop of him. He throws Stormbow up to block the attack, his feet skidding back a fraction under the brunt of it, the bow somehow miraculously not breaking under the weight. The shock wave that surges through the metal however makes  his teeth chatter and his muscles scream. He kicks out, his foot connecting with Hiroto’s knee, forcing him to pull back. But the blow does nothing more than make him grunt in pain before swinging the tetsubo back down.  _

_ This time Hanzo is ready. He drops down and rolls to the side, avoiding the attack and pulls an arrow from his quiver, nocking it and firing. Hiroto twists out the way, lifting the metal club effortlessly before charging again. There’s something in his expression that makes Hanzo’s heart stop.  _

 

_ A split second later, there is a red glow, snaking from Hiroto’s sleeve and twisting around the club like a snake coiling to strike. Hanzo draws his last arrow and nocks it, taking a deep breath. Calling the dragons is the only option. If he doesn’t act now, he will die here. _

 

_ He fires.   _

 

_ There’s a clash of light and sound. Roars of dragons fill the clearing, clashing and twisting in the air, fang filled maws surge towards the owners of the other. The cacophony of light and sound makes him deaf and blind. Contrasting hues of red and blue. Hanzo can’t move in time and before he realises what is happening, he feels the crack of bones. The sound echoes through his veins, crashed in his skull. _

 

_ The world goes white.  _

 

_ The din of the noise fades and the world filters back. First the bright sun, then the overhanging trees, all stained an almost familiar red tinge of blood in his eyes. Then sound; At first white noise, like a radio searching for a station, then silence, save for the distant sound of birds.  _

_ For a moment, he feels nothing. Weightless and featherlike before the pain slices through like a hot knife. He screams, a guttural and raw sound that rips his throat apart. He can taste blood, his entire body cries out in unfiltered pain. He can’t feel his legs.  _

 

_ Oh gods, why can’t he feel his legs? Why can’t he move his toes? Why do his shins burn like white fire? He twists, panic setting in through the pain. He can see the crumpled body of Hiroto, blood pooling under his broken form. He isn’t moving. Hanzo can’t tell if he’s breathing.  _

_ It’s then he sees it. A meter or so away, thrown aside like a empty soda can.  _

 

_...Was that his leg?   _

 

_ Confusion smothers the panic with a crescendo of questions; Why is his leg there? He’s over here. Maybe that was Hiroto’s? No. It couldn’t be. He can  _ see  _ Hiroto’s legs. He has two. So why is that leg there?  _

 

_ Panic hits him again like a tidal wave; If that isn’t Hiroto’s, and he can’t feel his own legs. Was that his leg? Why was his leg there?  _

 

_ He focuses on his body, pushing himself to sit up despite the fact he’s struggling to breath with broken ribs, his clothes stick to him with blood and dirt, hair stuck to his face. The pain is starting to fade into numbness. He struggles to sit up, muscles groaning in protest, his shoulder protesting. His wrist gives way, he hisses and falls back into the bloody dirt. He isn’t sure if it’s broken or sprained in the haze setting into his body. He struggles up on his one good wrist again, looking down at his legs.  _

 

_ Or he would have had they had been there.  _

 

_ He stares at the place his legs used to be, trying to comprehend what he is seeing; Below his knees is missing, but instead of a clean cut his legs were torn apart, blood sticking the filthy torn cloth to his skin, muscle and bone exposed to the air, blood dripping into the dirt.  _

 

_ Plip. Plip.  _

 

_ He couldn’t feel anything anymore, his body going numb. His stomach twists and he slowly looks back to where his leg is lying.  _

_ So that’s why his leg was over there.  _

_ A second later and he locates his other leg half way in a bush.  _

_ His stomach twists violently and he hunches over, dry heaving into the grass beside him. His eyes water, shakes sweeping through his body like a wave. He doesn't hear the rustle of foliage.  _

 

_ “Hello? Who’s here?! I saw something and- Oh my god-!”  _

 

_ He looks up sharply and the entire world spins on its axis. At the edge of the clearing of damaged trees and blood stained soil, stands a pretty young woman in white and red, her dark hair falling in loose ringlets around her face. His brow creases, trying to focus on her as his vision blurs and darkens. His last thought before the darkness swallows his vision slips away with him into inky blackness; _

 

_ She looks just like an angel.  _

 

~*~*~*~

 

Jesse wakes to thrashing in the bed beside him, the sound of choked sobbing filling his ears. It takes him less time to turn the light on then it takes him to pull Peacekeeper, turning to try and shake his lover awake. “Hanzo! Hanzo calm down, it’s okay-” 

Hanzo wakes in a flash, eyes snapping open and looking around the room like an injured animal, clutching at Jesse’s chest. Hanzo’s not focusing on him, eyes lost in a place Jesse can’t reach. Jesse feels his heart shatter. 

Hanzo tears himself away, throwing the duvet off them in a flurry and claws at his prosthetics. They feel wrong, heavy,  _ unnatural _ . His legs burn where the metal meets skin.  __

Jesse grabs at his hands as Hanzo manages to unclasp one prosthetic, attempting to prise his fingers away. The metal limb falls from the futon with a thud, the wires that connected to the scarred flesh below his knee coming off as it falls away and onto the hardwood floor.  

“Hanzo- Sweetheart please-” He pleads. He feels helpless when Hanzo gets like this, seeing Hanzo so deeply troubled and in such a state of pure fear that Jesse struggles to pull him back from. 

Hanzo fights his grasp, whimpering, tears streaming down his face. He manages to undo his other leg before Jesse grasps his face and forces him to look away. Hanzo stares at him for a long moment before realisation floods in. 

 

_ Wait, Jesse?  _

 

Hanzo’s brain snaps out of its loop and shakes wash through him. The usually stoic and calm man crumbles before Jesse like a sand castle in a thunderstorm. Hanzo crumbles forwards into him, clutching the off grey nightshirt as if it were a lifeline, his body shaking violently with the sobs that tore from his lungs. 

 

Jesse sits and holds him, stroking his shoulders soothingly and attempting to calm him down. He’d seen this a few times in the time they had been together, but it always shook him to see Hanzo just so  _ broken _ . “Shh… It’s okay… I’ve got you...” 

“ _ Karera wa itte shimatta... Itai, itai. Ā, sore wa itai. _ ” Hanzo crokes between sobs into Jesse’s chest. He knew enough Japanese to understand;  _ They're gone. It hurts, it hurts. Oh gods it hurts.  _

He closes his eyes, burying his face into the mess of black and greying hair. Tears prick at his own eyes, swallowing a lump forming in his throat. He can’t break now when Hanzo needs him. He hums softly, tracing nonsensical shapes onto the small of his archer’s back, hoping just that small comfort would be enough.

 

Hanzo’s head snaps up as there’s a knock at the door, still skittish and on edge. Jesse only narrowly manages to avoid getting headbutted. He grips him in a tight squeeze before slowly climbing off the futon and to his feet. Hanzo however is reluctant to let go; clinging first to his shirt, then his arm, and finally to his hand. He shifts towards the end of the futon as Jesse makes an effort to open the door without letting his hand go, knocking the second prosthetic onto the floor to follow the first. “Hanzo, honey, you need to let my hand go.” Hanzo’s immediate response is to grip tighter before reluctantly letting go, his hands falling into his lap. It takes no time for them to move to his knees, digging his nails into the scarred flesh as if the sharp pain would dull the burning sensation he could still feel in the limbs that were no longer there.

 

Jesse slides the door open a crack, to find Lucio and Hana both on the other side. Both are dressed in pajama shorts of their usual key colours. The only exception being; Hana is wearing one of Lucio’s tour shirts and Lucio is in turn wearing one of Hana’s. “Is everything okay? We heard crying,” Hana asks, her brow knitted together in worry. 

“It’s just a bad night, is all,” Jesse explains keeping the heartache from his voice with practiced ease. He glances over his shoulder to Hanzo who had directed his eyes to his knees, shoulders shaking as he tries to control himself.

Hana manages to peek under Jesse’s elbow, the lines setting deeper into her brow making her look much older than almost 20. “Is there anything we can get, Eastwood?” Lucio pipes up, rocking on his exo skeleton’s skates. He knew both their medical files, and knew the kinds of things that Hanzo dreamt of and how serious it could be. 

Before Jesse can open his mouth, Hana grabs Lucio’s arm and points firmly at Jesse. “You both stay here. We’ll be right back, got me?” Lucio looks at her mildly alarmed, Jesse raises an eyebrow. “Sure thing lil lady. I’ll leave the door unlocked.” She gives a satisfied nod and pulls Lucio in tow down the hall, who throws Jesse a confused look and small shrug. 

 

He closes the door, leaving it unlocked as promised and moves back to the futon. Hanzo looks up finally. “She’s kinda terrifying for someone so small, eh?” Jesse offers weakly, climbing back into bed. Hanzo doesn’t move straight away, staring at what was left of his legs. 

“...Do you ever.. Feel it still?” He murmurs, not looking up. Jesse leans forwards, gently pulling his hands away from his knees. He’d been digging his nails in so hard, Jesse could see beads of blood forming. He winces slightly and looks away, guiding Hanzo to move back up the bed and beside him. 

“Yeah, of course.” He lays back and Hanzo collapses onto his chest, burying his face in his sleep shirt. “Some days are worse than others, but I’m sure you know that.” 

Silence falls between them. Jesse glances at the clock on the bedside table which declares in red numbers that it was currently  _ 1:42 AM _ . He runs his hand through his hair, stroking the bottom of Hanzo’s back with his metal hand gently. Hanzo actually welcomes the cool touch, giving a soft mumble of comfort. 

 

~*~

 

Once the clock ticks over to  _ 2:00 AM _ , there's a soft knock and the door opens again. Hana enters, carrying two steaming mugs, flanked closely by Lucio holding a tray of sweet smelling pancakes. Jesse opens one eye before raising an eyebrow. “What’s all this?” Hana gives him a broad smile as Hanzo shifts to sit up. He’d pulled the duvet over himself, shielding his legs from Hana’s view. Lucio had seen him without them before now. “This,” she declares, lofting the mugs high in the air, “is chamomile tea.” She gives him a cheeky grin. Hanzo’s shoulders relax a little, oddly soothed by the young Korean woman's warmth. “And this, is what Hana called how-duck.” Lucio adds, placing the tray on the end of the futon. 

“ _ Hoddeok, _ ” Hana chides, “They’re sweet pancakes with brown sugar filling. They’re really good. I thought it might make you feel better.,” she adds, looking to Hanzo with a more gentle smile. “They make me feel better when I’m having a bad day.” She hands the tea over to both of them in turn before reaching into Lucio’s pocket and pulling out a flash drive and a packet of what Hanzo recognises to be incense sticks. Lucio gives a protest, trying to bat her hands away. “Woah! Han! A little warning!” Jesse can’t help but laugh. 

“Lavender incense and I got Lucio to copy over some tunes he made me to help me sleep,” Hana explains after sticking her tongue out at the the audio-medic. 

 

Hanzo frowns a little. He often forgot that Hana had also seen as much blood as some of the other members of their team. Nearing 20 and she’d already fought in the military to defend her country and was one of Korea’s top MEKA pilots. Just looking at her now made his chest ache in sympathy. Jesse flashes them his best smile. “Well, thank ya both. It’s mighty kind of ya.” 

Hana flashes them both a smile, placing the items on the console desk and grabbing Lucio’s hand to pull him out the door. “Come on Lu, I was beating your ass 7-0.” 

“Only because you’re cheating,” he retorts, huffing out through his nose. He glances back at Jesse and Hanzo as Hana pulls him back out through the doorway. “My line’s always open if you need me, okay?” Jesse throws him a little salute. Hanzo doesn’t say a word, eyes downcast to the steaming mug in his lap as the door to their room slides shut and locks with a  _ click _ . 

 

Hanzo stays quiet while he sips his tea as Jesse pulls the tray of almost sickeningly sweet pancakes towards them. “Well, I didn’t expect that,” he muses, nudging a pancake with a fork. He cuts it with the fork, watching the syrup seep out from the center. Well it was certainly comfort food. Too many of these and Angie would be demanding he go on a diet. He gives a shrug, taking a bite and let out a pleased  _ ‘mmm!’ _

“Damn. Hanzo you gotta try these, they’re amazing.” He offers Hanzo the fork which prompts him to finally look up from staring at the tea. “No, thank you.” 

“Come on, Hana made them for you.” Jesse urges, gently nudging the plate towards him. Hanzo gives a heavy resigned sigh and takes both, taking a small bite. He can’t help the small pleased noise that escapes his throat. Jesse grins. “See, told you.” He leans forwards in an attempt to take the fork back, only to have Hanzo lean away. “Hey, come on- I want some too!”  

 

~*~

 

After the pancakes have been eaten and the tea drunk Jesse gets up and puts on the music Lucio had brought. Hanzo decides against the incense in favour of simply opening a window to let in the cool nighttime breeze. He presses his cheek to Jesse’s chest as they lie together, listening to his heart through his breastbone. To the soft thu-thump that reminded him - this was real and now. And this man, as ridiculous as he was at times, was his. 

“Did I ever tell you what happened?” Hanzo asks quietly, eyes closed and enjoying the gentle cool metal fingers through his hair. Jesse pulls a cigarette from the pack lay beside the bed, pausing in his hair stroking to stick it between his lips and light it. “Can’t say you have, darlin’. Didn’t wish to ask either if you weren’t comfortable talkin’ ‘bout it.” 

Hanzo hums softly, “Thank you,” Jesse raises an eyebrow at him. “For not asking.” Hanzo clarifies before shifting to sit in the crook of Jesse’s arm so he could take the cigarette from Jesse’s lips to smoke himself. Jesse simply takes another from the pack and lights it. “But I feel ready to tell you now,” he explains, staring into the darkness at the end of their bed. His expression is hard to read, even for Jesse. There's a pause as Hanzo gathers his thoughts before speaking to the darkness in front of him. The hand not on the cigarette clasps his thigh through the duvet. 

 

“I had been to Hanamura to honor Genji. While I was there, an assassin attempted to kill me. This was, by now, a usual occurrence while visiting Hanamura. When you have  particular habits, your enemy tends to pick up on them. He had caught me by surprise however; He hadn’t followed the usual pattern the assassins sent to kill me followed. He tried to kill me before I even stepped foot within the shrine.

 

I left Hanamura later that evening. I did not wish to linger before word got back to the Elders that their attempt had been unsuccessful again. They no longer stayed at the castle, it was too dangerous as someone had started attacking members of the Shimada-gumi elite.” There was a pause and he took a small pull on the cigarette, blowing the smoke out in a ring above them. “I traveled north west following Fuji river as it lead up to Lake Suwa. By the time I reached Hokuto however, I had caught wind that another had been sent for me. I had to leave Hokuto swiftly with only the dwindling supplies I had left-” Hanzo paused for a moment to tap ash off into the ashtray that Jesse offered him. “-Thank you. I found myself in a place fondly named Cherry Blossom Haven, near the ruins of Takatao. The trees were all in bloom by then,” he recalls, a glimmer of something fond passing over his face, “Cherry blossoms in the valley, as far as you could see. Just like in Hanamura.” Jesse watches his lover talk, hanging onto each word as Hanzo spoke more to the air than to him. Hanzo’s face darkened, “He found me in the valley. I was exhausted. He was… One of the most dangerous men our Clan had in their ranks; Tomo Hiroto. The Dragon’s Butcher.” He gave a short bark of a laugh. “How arrogant a title. But he too possessed what I believe may have been either a dragon, or a snake.” 

 

There’s a pause and Jesse glances down at Hanzo’s hand from the corner of his eye. He’s gripping his leg so tightly through the duvet, his knuckles have gone white. “A woman saved me. Satō Megumi… She was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. Dark hair and the most beautiful brown eyes... She got help and when I woke I was at the temple just outside of Ina. It happens that she was the daughter of the priest and had been gathering water and supplies for a festival. I had stumbled upon some luck finally; They were able to get a doctor to come and see me from Ina as I was in no state to leave the temple. I promised to pay them. I had money that I’d taken when I left the Shimada-gumi and it was Megumi who insisted that I didn’t. She only wished to help a man in need.” Hanzo sighs softly, “I stayed there for a long time. I wasn’t able to help as…” He grips the duvet and squeezes his eyes closed. There’s another pause as he finishes off the cigarette and puts it out in the ashtray. He blows out the smoke out through his nose, looking all the more dragon-like. “...I managed to pay my way to getting prosthetics. I couldn’t stand being helpless. I wished to help, to thank them for aiding me. Megumi insisted that I wasn’t useless and continued to insist that they only wished to see me well again. She was so kind and selfless. I admit I was… cold to her to start. I regret it now. She only wished to help me.” 

“Did you… y’know?” 

“...Love her? ...After a time. She was the first good thing that had happened to me in a very long time and as of that moment, all the people I had held dear were gone. Dead, or suspected so. I believe Genji was still with Overwatch at that point from what he has told me. I didn’t know he was even alive until a few years ago.” 

Jesse puts his own cigarette out and puts the ashtray to one side, running his fingers through Hanzo’s hair as it fell about his shoulders. “What happened after?” Hanzo leans his head into Jesse’s touch.

“...Have you ever heard of snakes hunting in packs?” 

Jesse stares at him, taken back by the sudden question. “Well.. I heard of it happnin’. But I’ve never seen it myself.” 

“He wasn’t alone. As soon as his own group hadn’t heard of him in while, they set about hunting me down. Together. Six months after Hiroto they found me. Or… they found the temple. I wasn’t there. I had left to go and get supplies for the temple from Ina.” His head drops. “ _ I wasn’t there. _ I didn’t get back till they had already slaughtered most of the temple’s inhabitants. I tried to stop them...” There's another pause, longer this time. Hanzo looks like he’s trying to compose himself, but his shoulders are shaking slightly as he swallows back the guilt that bubbles to the surface. “They made me  _ watch  _ as they killed her like some common animal. They tore her life from her all to punish me before they were going to kill me. I snapped - I called the dragons and let them devour every single person in there. If you were to go to Ina Temple now, there would be nothing but ruins amongst the cherry blossoms. I should have been there sooner or I should have  _ left  _ sooner. She didn’t deserve what became of her for my selfishness.” 

 

Silence settles between them and Hanzo lets out a shaky breath, scrubbing at his eyes with the back of his hand before collapsing back into the crook of Jesse’s arm. They lay for a long time as Jesse strokes his hair, comforting touches as he processes all of what Hanzo has told him. 

The clock ticks over to _ 3:58 AM _ and softly as if he didn’t wish the world to hear, Jesse mumbles, “I don’t think you were selfish for wanting happiness, Hanzo.” 

Hanzo opens his eyes, looking up at him in the lamp light, his expression as if Jesse had just told him the moon was made of silver. “...I.. never thought of it that way. But after all I have done. I have the blood of every man and woman at that shrine on my hands - my own brother’s blood!” Hanzo’s brow creases, struggling to simply accept it as it was. 

“And I’ve got the blood of everyone I’ve had a hand in killing in Blackwatch and Deadlock. Do y’think that I don’t deserve happiness either?” 

“No. That’s not what I mean Jesse, and you  _ know  _ that.” 

“Really now?” 

Hanzo gives him a frustrated look and elbows him gently in the side, “You are  _ stubborn _ .”  

Jesse gives him a small sad smile, leaning down to kiss him softly. It’s sincere and warm and feels just like home. “You deserve to be happy too, sweetheart. Regardless of what you’ve done. You’re a good man. If you weren’t? Well, you wouldn’t be in Overwatch.” The statement has an air of finality to it that makes Hanzo give an annoyed huff. “...What did I do to ever deserve you, Jesse McCree?” 

Jesse flashes him his best smile, “I dunno, cupcake. I can say though that I’m probably the luckiest man alive.”  

 

Hanzo turns, swinging his leg over Jesse’s lap to straddle him. Jesse gives a start, blinking as he cups his face, pulling him into a long kiss. It’s needy and desperate as if Hanzo was dying for a drink from the well Jesse had offered him. 

After a long moment, he pulls back. Both of them are a little breathless and flushed. Jesse’s grinning like a love drunk idiot and Hanzo honestly thinks the look suits him. His love struck fool. He presses his forehead to Jesse’s, gripping the back of his neck. “No, you are mistaken.  _ I’m  _ the lucky one.”

 

~*~

  
  


Jesse turns off the music that Lucio had brought, leaning his head back against his pillows as he hums a song he heard on the radio station that played music made before even Reinhardt’s time. 

 

_ Like a river flows, _ _  
_ _ Surely to the sea, _

 

He runs his fingers over the dragon that snakes down Hanzo’s arm, tracing each scale and curve in turn. Hanzo’s dozing lightly now, arms folded on Jesse’s chest as he lay on top of him. Jesse can’t think of a place he’d rather be than right here and now with Hanzo Shimada, looking like the most beautiful thing he’d seen. 

 

_ Darling, so it goes, _ _  
_ _ Some things are meant to be… _

 

Now knowing everything he did, Jesse understands why Hanzo was so reluctant for help and to let anyone near him when they first met. Anyone that had ever gotten close to him had died. Whether it was by Hanzo’s own hand or others, all his loved ones were dead, or had been suspected dead. 

He gives a hum in amusement; he could certainly relate.

He closes his eyes, singing along to the tune in his head. He doesn’t see Hanzo smile slightly in his sleep. 

__  
_ “Take my hand, _ __  
_ Take my whole life too, _ _  
_ __ For I can't help... falling in love... with you…”

**Author's Note:**

> Well this was a long way coming. An entire rewrite, being sick, zero sleep at one point. But safe to say I'm happy now. 
> 
> This wouldn't have been completed if it wasn't for my main editor/beta Mango. She honestly kept me going when I wanted to give up or scrap sections. Also for keeping up on my shitty use of commas.  
> Thank you my beta readers; Tsoleil, Kalikuks and NecroNova for all the encouragement. (You can now lower your leg Tso.)  
> And thank you to all my friends on Discord. Without you guys this wouldn't have ever been picked up again and finished in less then a month.


End file.
